Come Back
by Aurora Ciel
Summary: Even after the world ended Daryl told himself he hadn't lost everything…until he had to put his brother down. After believing there's nothing left for him to care about, he's brought back to the land of the living by a woman and little boy. And there's more to this woman than she seems: "What were you before all this, some kind of slayer?" "No, but I played one." DarylOC
1. Chapter 1

**Hello! I'm excited to come back with a new story and new world to write in. I've been addicted to TWD since it came out and I cannot get enough of Daryl Dixon. Seriously. His picture may or may not be the wallpaper of my cell phone.**

**Anyway, this is my first TWD story but definitely not my first experience with writing. I've been waiting for a plot to come to me for this show and I'm excited with what I've been struck with. I decided to wait until after the season finale since that seemed to be an easier time to start. So on that note, please keep in mind that this story probably will stray from the direction the next season will go (obviously, since I am neither a mind reader nor a writer for the show), but I will try to remain as in canon as possible.**

**In addition, please note that this story takes place after the third season so there will be SPOILERS if you haven't seen up to the finale. **

**I do have most of this story mapped out but I am always open to suggestions and requests!**

**Thank you for taking the time to read my story and I hope you enjoy!**

* * *

**Come Back**

**Chapter 1**

She couldn't get away fast enough. Her lungs ached within her chest as she struggled to catch her breath and keep up her speed. Glancing behind her, she could see the thing just a few feet away. It was bound to catch up to her soon.

Her path reached a dead end and the wet rock walls surrounding her closed in. She had no choice but to climb, her dark green eyes scanning over the slab of rock to find opportune footholds. A clammy hand gripped around her ankle and she let out a breathy scream, looking down and throwing a small knife towards it. The blade missed her target location but was imbedded in its shoulder, rendering the limb unusable.

Dominic shouted for her, racing to where she was struggling. He had no long-distance weapons on him so all he could do for her was run and hoped he made it to her in time. She gritted her teeth, gave her lover a final look of longing, and then propelled herself down to fall on top of the creature. It jolted backwards and she landed easily on its chest. Her thigh holster was empty of weaponry but she reached for a thin branch by her ankles. With a fierce cry she lifted it above her head and drove it down, jamming into the ground just next to its head.

"Cut!"

She looked up from beneath a layer of blonde wavy hair falling into her eyes from where it had come loose from her French braid, using her forearm to brush it aside. With a sigh, she sat back and eased herself off of the man lying below her on a thick foam mat.

"Nice one, Lyla. Let's take five for prep and then rework the rest of the kill shot," Marco, a large balding man, called out from beneath his low baseball cap. He perched in his Director's chair behind a row of cameras and computer screens.

Lyla nodded as she panted, keeping her hands on her hips and trying to open her lungs to regain her breath. Her leather jacket and pants were tight and form fitting, not allowing for much movement, but Marco liked the way they looked on her taut body so she kept up the look, whether or not she felt incredibly constricted and slightly objectified. Her toes were pinched in the combat boots they'd given her and, even though her costume designer assured her that they'd get better after breaking them in for a few days, she had yet to feel used to them.

"Here," she glanced up to see a water bottle being tossed to her just in time to catch it. "Thanks, Chris." Christian, who played her vampire lover Dominic in the _Abby Strong: Vampire Slayer _film series, nodded before chugging half of his own bottle.

"Who would've thought vampire slaying could be so tiring?" he said with a breathy laugh. Lyla nodded and wiped the cool rim of water from her upper lip after drinking.

"It's almost worse than the six months of boot camp," she joked, referring to the intense training they had to endure for each film, before noticing Chelsea, her assistant, waving her over. There were two security guards standing watch of her personal belongings that she'd brought from her trailer to the set but she waved them away for a moment of privacy.

"Your brother is calling on your personal," Chelsea said quietly as she held an iPhone out to her boss, a small touch tablet full of Lyla's schedules and appointments in her other hand. "Do you want to take it?"

"Lyla?" Marco called out. "Lyla, baby, we need to set—"

"You said five minutes, hang on!" she snapped as she took the phone. She clicked to accept the call, frowning at the sound of static hitting her ear immediately. She didn't spend a couple hundred dollars a month on the latest smart phone for this kind of shitty service.

"_Lyla?"_

"Peter," she smiled, moving to a more private corner of the set and leaning back against a wall. "What's up? Let me guess…you and Kathleen locked your keys in the car again—"

"_Lyle," _he interrupted with her nickname. Lyla stiffened at the urgency in his voice. _"I need you to listen to me…you have to go to the school and get Ben. Kathleen and I…we won't make it in time."_

"What do you mean? What's going on?"

"_You don't know?"_

"Know what?" she asked. "Why are you all staticky? I can barely make you out."

"_Lyla! Damn it, this is important. Listen to me, something's happened. There's…things all over the place. It's not safe. Kathleen and I can't get to the school and someone has to get Ben." _There was some kind of crashing in the background and what sounded like strange muffled voices.

Lyla dropped her water bottle, looking to the crew to get someone's attention. "Find a TV or a radio! Something's going on…Peter, listen to me. I'm on the set right now…it will take me at least forty-five minutes to get to Atlanta. You need to tell me what's happening."

"_I can't explain it, Lyle. Something's happened. Please, just get to Ben…take care of him. We can't make it. I need you to—"_

The line went dead.

"Pete? Peter!" she searched the set frantically, desperate for someone who could help her. "Please!" she shouted, tears beginning to stream down her face. "Someone fucking figure out what's going on out there!"

She tried to search on her cell phone, noticed the others were as well, but no one's seemed to be working. Chelsea attempted to connect to the internet on her tablet but she set it down after a minute with an exasperated look. "I've got something," an intern finally said, fiddling with a little radio he'd found. They were locked deep in a below ground studio where there was barely any service or satellite connection on a good day. After adjusting the knobs on the radio for a bit, finally a weak, scratchy voice came through.

"There's been an outbreak of some sort," the intern explained after pressing his ear to the speaker. "Some kind of…dead things all over the place."

Christian threw his water bottle with a string of curses as people began to cry and scream. Tension bubbled within the film studio as the panic set in and Lyla felt her chest tightening as she punched in the numbers to her brother's cell phone again. Her phone wasn't making any connection and finally she lost any kind of signal. The radio gave out moments later.

"My nephew…I have to get to my nephew," she choked out as her throat began to close up. A handful of the caterers came screaming into the set with strewn clothing and streaks of red across their bodies.

"What is it?" Marco asked, grabbing one of them by the shoulders.

"There's…there's something out there," the man sobbed. "It's like it's the end of the world."

* * *

**2 years later**

Daryl Dixon was not fond of crowds. All his life he'd grown used to being alone and suddenly here he was living in a prison full of his people and the Woodbury refugees. It was like a never ending chatter was going on around his head. With so many people confined to one place, it was almost never quiet. Even at night.

He'd lost the person he considered himself closest to—his big brother—and whether he admitted it to himself or not, he'd become a bit lost himself. The late summer sun was beginning to set and Daryl struck out into the woods for some time alone. He didn't like to think about Merle around the others, even if he was just in the cell block with his people.

Things had become tense in the prison, and not just amongst his people. Many of the refugees were older and unstable; they passed on early enough from all the stress. The dozen or so that remained were younger but still panicked about the situation. Even though the Governor and his men hadn't been seen or heard from since they'd shot up their own army, the former citizens of Woodbury couldn't seem to shake their restlessness. They rarely talked and were even worse when one from Daryl's group came into their presence. It was unnerving for him, as he wasn't used to that kind of silent, staring attention.

He sighed as he stepped into the dark freedom of the woods surrounding the prison, welcoming the tranquil quiet that enveloped him. What he wouldn't do for a cigarette. The tips of his fingers tingled as he rubbed them together, adjusting the crossbow on his shoulder. He may have come out here for some peace but he wasn't stupid. He knew that in this world you never could be too careful.

There was a large tree about a half mile away from the prison grounds that he liked to come to during times like this. It was sturdy so he could sit in it if he chose to, but other times he simply leaned back against it. He slid down the side of the bark and propped his knees up as he pulled his knife from his jacket. The pad of his finger danced across the tip of the blade before he flicked it towards another tree across from him. It embedded into the thick bark with a soft thud.

He was about to reach to pull it out when he heard a strange sound to his distant right. Daryl froze all movements, turning his well-trained ear to pick up on anything that could identify it. He cursed when he realized just what it was. Grabbing the crossbow, he hoisted himself up quickly and yanked the knife from the tree before slipping over to the direction of the sound.

The muffled whimpering became louder as he closed in. His boot snapped a fallen twig and he cursed silently as the sound stopped with a startled hiccup. Rubbing at his bottom lip, Daryl took a step through the brush.

"Well come on then," he said softly. "Come on outta there."

For a moment, all was still. Just as he was about to give up out of frustration, a little person crawled out of the brush. Daryl sighed at the sight of the boy; he couldn't be older than seven or eight. His rounded cheeks were dashed with freckles and a few leaves poked out of his dark messy hair.

The boy sniffled as Daryl knelt down in front of him, taking in the liquid pooling in his large dark eyes and dripping down his cheeks. He set the crossbow behind him so as not to frighten him.

"Hey now," he murmured. "I ain't gonna hurt ya." He held out a hand and gestured for the boy to step closer and he did, wiping his cheeks with his sleeve as he approached the older man.

"You lost?" The boy nodded. "What's yer name?"

The boy sniffled again, "Ben."

"Okay Ben," Daryl said, placing a hand on the boy's shoulder. "I'll help ya find yer group. Do ya remember where ya came from?"

Ben shook his head no, his face crumpling up as he began to wail again. Daryl scrambled to quiet the boy and calm him at the same time. "Hey, hey," he shushed. "Don't worry 'bout it. I can help ya."

He chewed on his thumb nail as he tried to think. He hadn't seen or heard a group camped out anywhere within miles. Who knew where to start. "How long you been lost for?"

"A day I think," Ben answered quietly, keeping his gaze on his shoes. "It was light out when I lost Mrs. Dobson and it's been dark once."

Daryl arched his brow at the boy and leaned back on his haunches. "Who's Mrs. Dobson?"

"My teacher. She takes care of us kids with some of the other teachers."

"You been with yer teacher all this time?"

Ben nodded. "I lost my Mama and Daddy. Mrs. Dobson took us from the school when it happened."

"Have ya been walkin' since ya got lost?" He frowned when Ben answered yes, meaning that the odds of getting the little boy back to his group were slim to none. If there were any group near them, Daryl would be the one to know it.

This was just like the Sophia situation all over again. Part of Daryl wanted to leave the kid out here in the woods. He was tired of trying to save people. He was tired of failing.

Andrea's last words reverberated in his mind, _"No one can make it alone now."_

Biting the side of his lip, he stood and brushed off his worn jeans. "How old are ya Ben?"

"Seven."

"I got a friend back at my place who's just a bit older than you. His name's Carl," Daryl said. "You wanna meet him?"

* * *

Daryl watched as Carol set another plate of some kind of mushy freeze-dried pasta in front of Ben, who eagerly gobbled it up without any kind of usual childlike reluctance. But, he supposed, when you grow up in a world like this one, you learn not to be too picky.

"So Ben," Rick sat down across from the boy. Carl was looking over Ben closely, his older brother instincts with Judith transferring to the younger boy as well. "My friend Daryl says that you've been living with your teachers and some classmates?"

Ben nodded as he slurped up a noodle. "Mrs. Dobson. She reads to us a lot."

"What happened to your group?" Maggie asked from her place beside Glenn. She was brewing a pot of tea for some of the others.

Ben paused, chewing for a moment as he thought. "Some of those yucky guys…walkers. They attacked us. Tony Danielson got bit." He looked over to Daryl proudly, "I hid!"

The side of Daryl's mouth perked up a bit and he nodded to the little boy in response, but couldn't help but feel slightly confused. He didn't know why the boy would be looking to him of all people for recognition.

Carol smiled at him gently for a moment before her eyes softened and she shifted her gaze to Ben. "Sweetheart," she began with a voice Daryl hadn't heard since Sophia had disappeared. "Where are your parents?"

Ben's head drooped and he set his fork down. "Mrs. Dobson said they're gone."

Rick glanced over at Hershel and Daryl briefly before asking, "You don't have any other family?"

After a brief moment the little boy perked up, "My Auntie Lyla! Daddy said she was going to find me."

"Do you know where Auntie Lyla is?"

"Nuh uh. I've been with Mrs. Dobson the whole time."

"She's never found you?" Hershel asked in disbelief. The look on his face told Daryl what the older man was thinking. It was doubtful that this woman was still in the area, let alone alive.

Rick let out a long breath through his nose, rubbing his hand over his prickly face. "Alright," he said finally, eyes closed. "Ben will stay here for the night. Daryl can try to track his group tomorrow, see if we can get him back to his people. If not, the boy stays with us."

"I wanna go, too," Carl insisted. Daryl saw the hesitation in Rick's eyes but he stepped forward slightly.

"I don' mind. We can hunt too."

Their leader nodded after considering. He watched his son with pained eyes and nodded again. "Yeah, that would be good."

Ben smiled up at the group before diving back into his noodles, happily slurping them up after not having eaten in days. Maggie handed out mugs of tea to some of the adults.

"What I wanna know," she said quietly so as not to disrupt Ben, "is why nobody in that group has been looking for him."

Carol nodded but Daryl shook his head. "Things are different now. This far into it, people're learnin' to cut their losses early."

* * *

Daryl and Carl had been wandering the woods for several hours but hadn't come across any signs of an abandoned camp or tracks that would suggest a group's movement. He'd managed to snag a few squirrels but other than that they hadn't had much success for the day.

He noted that Carl had grown far less chatty over the past year and while he previously may have been pleased with that, now all he could feel was worry for the boy. This world could ruin him if things didn't change soon.

"Hey," he paused, waiting for the wide brim of the Sherriff's hat to move up until Carl's face showed. He held his crossbow in front of him. "You wanna try this thing out?"

Carl's face lit up at the offer and he eagerly reached out for the bow. Daryl instructed him to crouch low and hold still as they waited for any sign of life. Eventually, a lean rabbit hobbled into view a few yards away. Daryl nodded towards it before helping Carl adjust his grip on the bow, showing him where to place his hands and how to hold it against his shoulder.

"Gonna feel it kick back," he whispered as he wiggled the boy's shoulder to show him. "Just move with it but stay strong. Don't want it to bust yer shoulder but ya can't let it blow you over too."

Carl nodded, his face set in stern determination as he aimed the bow for the small furry creature. Daryl encouraged him to aim for the head and showed him how to steady his arms before finally letting go and giving the go ahead.

With a click and sharp whirring sound, the arrow released and shot through the air. They watched as it pierced through the rabbit's flesh, missing the head but stunning it immobile nonetheless. Daryl threw his knife to finish it off. He nodded at Carl as he removed the weapons and tied the carcass to their string of catches.

"Good work, kid."

Carl opened his mouth to reply when his head jerked in the opposite direction. Daryl looked past him, hearing the screams at the same time as he had. There was a roaring crackle accompanying them. Before Daryl could make any kind of decision about what to do, Carl took off in the direction of the fire.

With a curse, Daryl chased after his companion, loading his bow as he ran. They hurdled over fallen branches and brush as they headed into the smokey part of the forest. It wasn't too long before a frenzied campsite came into view, caving in partially because of the flames but also from a small herd of walkers that had made their way over, most likely having heard all the screams.

Tents collapsed from the melting vinyl and burning branches, bodies were strewn about across the clearing. People were hastily gathering any belongings they could. The flames licked bodies and nature and furniture alike, while walkers ignored the burning in favor of devouring the bodies.

Carl and Daryl quickly helped to take out all of the walkers, and prevent any deceased from becoming so, before taking in the state of the damage. Along with several of the people, they used blankets and towels to pat down the flames. Many of them rushed past the two, but a few gave their thanks before packing up and heading out.

A petite blonde woman nearly ran into Carl as she struggled to gather all of her things into her backpack. She glanced at their weapons and noted the downed walkers before pausing to look back to them.

"Thank you for your help," she said with a small smile. Carl's eyes widened at the sight of her but Daryl worked to keep a blank face, merely nodding in return.

Amidst all the chaos, another tent gave way and the rush of air expelled a cluster of photographs. Several of them were melted or burnt, but one that was only slightly singed drifted in front of Daryl's feet. Looking down at it, he breathed in quickly as he recognized the little boy in the foreground. His cheeks were a bit rounder, his hair was more kept, and he was a few years younger, but it was definitely Ben. He was sitting behind a table with a large colorful cake on it and grinning widely while a woman was hugging his side. There were two people standing behind them but the photo was too burnt to make out their faces. The woman hugging Ben, however, Daryl recognized.

"Hey!" he called out to the blonde who was hoisting her large camping backpack onto her shoulders. "You know Ben?"

She whirled around and was back in front of him before he could even blink. Daryl tensed at the way her small hand gripped his arm but he restrained himself from pulling away. Her eyes, the color of the forest surrounding them, were wide as she looked up at him.

"You know my nephew?"

"We have him," Carl added, puffing his chest out a bit, Daryl couldn't help but notice. The woman doubled over and let out a breathy laugh. When she straightened up Daryl could see tears forming in her eyes.

"Please," she said, "take me to him."

"Lyla!" a tall man with sandy brown hair called out. He wore a shirt that seemed too tight for his bulging muscles and, in Daryl's opinion, just made him look like an asshole. "We need to go. Now!"

"Christian, they found Ben," she explained. "I need to go with them."

The man frowned as he sized up Daryl. He knew what the pretty boy was thinking, what was a woman as beautiful as her doing running off with a dirty red neck like him? Her golden hair glistened where the setting light hit it and her skin seemed to practically glow. She was like looking at sunlight. Daryl noticed how Carl couldn't seem to take his eyes off of her.

Pretty Boy—or Christian, as Lyla had called him—held up his rifle, clearly deciding he wasn't going to accept her answer. Daryl and Carl instantly readied their own weapons in response, aiming at the man who hadn't taken a liking to them.

Lyla frowned, moving to push their weapons down and turning back to Christian. "That's enough. I'll meet you guys down at the river like we planned. Tomorrow."

Christian didn't lower his weapon. "How do we know you can trust them?"

"We know Ben!" Carl snapped. "He's seven and his teacher was Mrs. Dobson and his parents died in the outbreak."

Carl's blunt reply caused something to react in Lyla. Her eyelids fluttered and her shoulders seemed to wilt for a moment. Daryl realized that this was probably the first time she'd heard a direct confirmation that her family members were gone. After a moment she righted herself and set her face.

"I'll be fine," she said to Christian, gesturing to the holster on her thigh where half a dozen of small knives rested. Daryl's eyebrows rose. "Tomorrow…Ben and I will meet you just west of the river."

With her mind decided, Lyla adjusted the pack resting on her shoulders and looked back to Daryl and Carl, waiting for them to show her the way.

* * *

**So there we have it! First chapter! I wanted to include a lot of introduction work here. I'm trying to base the actual characters (Daryl and Carl especially) on interviews of the actors as well as the show itself. Hopefully I'm doing them some kind of justice.**

**Please let me know what you think!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you to those who reviewed! I love hearing what my readers think, so please keep it up!**

* * *

**Chapter 2**

"It's gettin' late," Daryl commented eventually, noting how dark the forest had become. By his judgment they still had a while to walk and he was reluctant to travel through the darkness with Carl and a woman they didn't know. "We should post up for the night. I can cook us up some of this," he gestured to the string game hanging from his shoulder.

"I'll cook," Lyla offered, the first thing she'd said since they'd left her camp. Daryl and Carl looked at her in surprise. "It's the least I can do."

Carl and Lyla gathered kindling and Carl started a fire while Daryl stripped the rabbit of its fur and readied it for cooking. Lyla took the pieces of meat from him and skewered them onto a stick she'd cleaned before holding it over the small fire. Within minutes they were eating Carl's rabbit.

Daryl noticed Carl's gaze shifting between him and Lyla as he ate quietly. Lyla stared into the dancing flames, her food resting in her hands relatively untouched. She seemed lost in thought but Daryl couldn't figure out what she was so sad about. She'd just found out she was going to be taken to her nephew.

"When it happened," she spoke so softly that at first Daryl thought he'd imagined it. He didn't realize she was actually talking until Carl's head perked up as well. She looked across the fire at him with sad acceptance in her eyes. "My older brother—Ben's dad—called me. I was in a rural area but for some reason he couldn't get to Ben's school in time. I think…I think he and his wife were trapped in the house by walkers." Daryl could hear her voice tremble and figured her throat was tightening. Her head dropped to avoid looking at them. He cursed again in his mind. He didn't know how to deal with this.

"Are you from here?" Carl asked eventually, thankfully taking the weight of having to comfort the girl off of his own shoulders.

Lyla smiled at him, finally lifting the roasted meat to her mouth to take a bite. "I grew up around here. But I moved out to California a while ago. I was just back in Georgia for work."

They learned she was twenty-seven—Daryl scoffed at the idea of being seven years her senior—liked Georgia better than California, listened to folk and indie music, spoke three languages in addition to English, couldn't whistle, and loved to chew strawberry flavored gum.

"At least, before the outbreak happened," Lyla added between mouthfuls of rabbit. "It's not as easy to find gum anymore."

Carl nodded, "I miss candy."

Daryl looked at him. "That's what ya miss? Outta everythin' you could possibly miss?"

"Oh fine Mr. Survivor Expert, what do you miss then?" Lyla asked with a laugh, lifting her closed hand in front of her mouth as she spoke around her food. Daryl had never seen anyone with manners like that.

He poked a stick at the embers in the pit they sat around as he tried to think of the things he missed. He silenced the part of his mind that whispered "Merle", instead trying to focus on smaller things.

"Marlboro Red Eighty Three's," he said finally, causing Carl's face to scrunch up.

"Ew," he said with a laugh.

"Ew is right. If this outbreak did one good thing, at least it's kept kids from smoking," Lyla said with a wink to Carl. Her shoulders sagged a bit before she lifted her eyes to meet Daryl's. "Peter…my brother smoked Parliaments before he quit. He'd just gotten to one year being smoke-free before…"

Carl's light laughter stopped and he watched her. They were all quiet for a while before Lyla's shoulders began to quiver and she tried to muffle any sounds of her grief. Daryl swallowed, not sure of what to do, when Carl slowly moved to sit next to her on the soft ground.

"I'm sorry about your brother," he said quietly.

Lyla took a shaky breath from behind the curtain her long hair had formed around her face. She scrubbed at her face, combing a hand through her wavy locks. "I just…a part of me kept wondering after all this time. I couldn't get to Ben in time…I didn't even know if he was alive these past two years. Don't get me wrong, I'm so glad to know that little boy is alive and safe. But it's hard to know for sure certain that my brother is gone."

"I lost my mom a few weeks ago." She gasped and turned to Carl in shock. "She died giving birth to my sister."

"Carl…" Lyla whispered. Her large, wide eyes glimmered in the light of the flames. Daryl watched on quietly from across the fire. He hadn't seen Carl open up like this to anyone in months, even before what happened with Lori. He was stunned that this woman had managed to draw the boy in after just meeting him.

For a moment it looked like Carl's face was going to crumple into sobs, but he bit at his lip in defiance. Eventually, he lifted a tentative arm around Lyla's side and she allowed him to tuck his face into her neck while she pulled her arms around him as well. Daryl watched as she shushed the boy and rocked slightly, her fingers combing through his shaggy hair. For the first time in months, he felt a warmth spread through him that wasn't coming from the fire in front of him.

* * *

Daryl watched the dying embers in their fire pit from his place resting against a log he'd dragged closer. Carl lay off to the left, curled up with his Sherriff's hat still near and Lyla was sleeping just to the right of Daryl's log. She'd pulled the hood of her sweatshirt over her long blonde locks and burrowed her face into the warmth of her chest.

He rubbed his fingers against his bottom lip as he looked at her, taking in her tight faded jeans and worn sneakers. Her face was clear of makeup and actually somewhat dirty from the events of the day, but he had to admit she was gorgeous. Her eyelashes were also a soft blonde without mascara to darken them, but even without he could tell how long they were as they fluttered across her glowing cheeks. He watched as her full pink lips parted slightly in her sleep.

"_Well hot damn,"_ a familiar voice grit out in his mind.

Daryl's lip twitched up and he ran his fingers through his long hair. "I was wonderin' if I'd be seein' you again."

He saw Merle perched next to him on the log, lighting up a cigarette before leaning forward to get a good look at the sleeping girl. A long stream of smoke blew from his nose. _"Tell me yer gonna hit that, little brother."_

Daryl frowned at the comment, even if it was a figment of his imagination, shaking his head heartily. "Ain't like that." A light breeze blew over their camp, rustling Lyla's golden hair so that the shorter layers around her face were moved away from her skin. It wasn't until then that Daryl noticed a single wet trail on one of her cheeks.

Lyla's closed eyes twitched slightly as she woke with a start. She sniffled a bit and reached to wipe her sleeve across her cheeks. Daryl pretended he didn't notice.

"How long was I out?" she asked bashfully, combing her fingers through her hair as she pulled her hood down around her shoulders. She scooted closer to the fire and put her hands out to grasp the last of the dying fire's warmth.

"Couple a hours," he replied, trying to keep his eyes on the fire pit.

Lyla nodded, rubbing her upper arms as she looked around at their surroundings. "I can take over watch now," she said, keeping her voice low so as not to wake Carl. "Let you get some rest."

Daryl shook his head. "I'm fine." Not that he didn't trust this girl, but he didn't like the thought of being asleep while she was left awake all alone. He could wait a few more hours until they got back to the prison. It wasn't the first all-nighter he'd pulled.

She didn't say anything else, continuing to look at the flames in front of her. They sat in silence for a while, which normally would have been Daryl's preference but he found that for some reason he felt extremely awkward. Like a different man would have been able to start a conversation with a girl like this—Rick…or Shane could have. Lyla pulled at a few blades of grass in front of her and braided them into a miniature bracelet. She flicked it into the orange embers at the pit of the fire.

"Carl's not yours, is he?" she said finally. Not really a question but an observation.

Daryl started. He'd never been mistaken for someone's father before. He stared at her features, so open with him as she waited for a reply. He began to shake his head but found himself opening his mouth to speak. "His dad…Rick, is back at the prison we're stayin' at."

Lyla licked her lower lip, considering this. "It's nice of you to take Carl out with you. He seems like he needed it after…what happened."

He scoffed. "Not a big deal," he muttered, looking down.

"Yes it is." He was surprised at the confidence in her voice. He glanced up to see her clear green eyes narrowed at him. "If you've ever lost anyone you know how hard it is to keep moving forward. Carl needs that."

They were quiet for a moment before Daryl, though he didn't know why, answered, "I know how hard it is."

"You lost someone?"

"You weren't the only one ta lose a big brother."

Lyla's eyes widened as her mouth dropped open slightly. Daryl could practically feel the waves of empathy rolling off of her. To his surprise, she moved closer to him until she was sitting beside him.

"I…I didn't—"

"I know," he cut her off.

"Did you see it happen?"

He couldn't figure out why he was telling her this stuff, he'd never mentioned it to anyone before. He'd told the group the basics of what happened with Merle, but he'd left a hell of a lot out, too. Not even Carol could get the details out of him. Yet for some reason, this girl—who normally would be intimidating by her natural good looks—caused him to speak. "Wasn't there when it happened, but I had to put him down as a walker."

He was waiting for it. Waiting for the apologies and the pity that he knew would be coming. He'd gotten it after his mama died and he'd gotten it from the group after he'd told them about the death of Merle.

Lyla's eyes, however, were not softened with pity but looked at him with a sad understanding. She set her hand gently on his knee and he couldn't help but look down at it. "Well, at least you're not left wondering. Not knowing is the worst."

After a moment Daryl smiled, actually relieved at her response. "Yeah. I reckon so."

"Thanks for bringing me to Ben," Lyla said. He welcomed the subject change.

"'Course. Family's gotta stick together."

She chewed on the side of her plump bottom lip for a moment, "Is he…I mean, how does he seem? I've been so worried about what a world like this would do to him. God, he was so young when it happened."

"The kid's fine," Daryl answered honestly. He stretched his shoulders and popped his neck before leaning in to poke at the last of the kindling that burned. "He mentioned you."

Lyla brightened up. "He remembers me? I was afraid he wouldn't know me when he saw me…"

He shook his head. "Knows yer name at least. Said his daddy told him you'd be comin' to find him." He kept his eyes forward so he didn't notice until he heard a wet breath beside him that he may have said something to upset her. He looked over at her in surprise to see her hands covering her face as her shoulders shook.

"He's been waiting for me to come get him…he's been waiting for two years?"

Daryl's eyes widened and he cursed himself for being so stupid. His hands hovered over her as he resisted the urge to back away from her. "I didn't mean it like that. I just…look, yer here for him now, aren't ya? Better late than never…or whatever."

She cleared her throat, scrubbing at her face with her large sweatshirt sleeves. "You're right. God, I'm sorry. This is really embarrassing," she let out a wet laugh.

He was so ready to stop talking about this. The conversation they'd had was already more than enough "emotional stuff" to last him a while. He gave a gruff cough and scuffed his boot in the dirt. "Sun's gonna be comin' up. We should wake Carl soon."

* * *

When the prison fence came into view, Daryl noticed Lyla's pace pick up a bit. She brushed her hair away from her face and took a deep breath. Carl smiled up at her and she grinned back nervously. "What if he doesn't recognize me?"

"He will," Carl said with an assertive nod. "He told us about you."

"That doesn't mean he'll remember what I looked like."

"I bet he will." Daryl arched an eyebrow at the boy's sudden excited confidence. He'd seen Carl the scared little boy and Carl the hardened child soldier, but this was his first time seeing Carl so self-assured.

They neared the gate and Daryl murmured for Lyla to keep her hands up. She protested at first but heeded nonetheless when she realized that to the look outs at the prison she was an unknown traveling with them and it was safest for her to come in this way.

Tyreese pulled the outer gate open, looking at the new girl with confusion. He knew better than to ask these two about her, though. They reached one of the entrances and were met by Rick, Hershel, and Glenn.

"We were beginning to wonder what happened to you two," Rick greeted them with a smile, patting Carl on the shoulder. "Who do we have here?"

"We couldn't find Ben's group," Carl began. "But we found something better."

"Lyla!" a small voice called out from behind them. Ben stood at the main door with Carol and Beth. Everyone watched the tears form in Lyla's eyes as her face lit up at the sight of her nephew and she called out to him. Ben skipped down the steps to race over to her as fast as his feet would carry him. She took the final steps around the men to get to the little boy and lifted him into her arms with a breathy laugh. Ben wrapped his arms and legs around her torso, clinging to her.

"Oh sweetheart," she murmured as she stroked his dark hair and rocked him. "I'm sorry it took me so long to get to you." Ben nuzzled his face into her neck and gripped at her long hair in his little fists.

Rick and Hershel grinned and laughed at the sight. Rick winked at his son who smiled proudly. "Well…welcome Lyla." She pulled her hair away from her face and nodded at the group's leader.

"Oh…my…god. Ohmygod." They all turned to see an awestruck Beth shifting down the steps with an open mouth. Maggie and Glenn, who'd heard all the racket, followed her down with similar but more restrained looks.

Beth stopped just inches away from Lyla, looking the older girl up and down with a look of pure joy. Daryl looked to see if the others were reacting, but so far only the sisters and Glenn seemed to know what was going on.

"You're…you're Abby Strong," Beth finally breathed.

Hershel gave his youngest a look, "Sweetie, her name is Lyla. Have you been feeling sick again?"

Beth shook her head violently, her hair flying around her face. "Daddy, she's _Abby Strong_! I mean…she's Lyla Mayer, but she _plays_ Abby Strong!"

"Played," Lyla corrected sheepishly.

"Who the hell is Abby Strong?" Daryl asked, catching Carol's eye as she gave him a knowing smile.

Ben, finally releasing his grip on Lyla, pulled his face away from his aunt and grinned over at the hunter who'd saved him, "Lyla's a movie star!"

"You're a celebrity?" Rick asked incredulously.

Lyla laughed, "What, you thought we weren't affected by all this too?"

"You were in those vampire slayer movies, weren't you?" Glenn asked somewhat shyly. He flushed when Lyla made eye contact with him, causing Maggie to snort and elbow his side.

Lyla lowered Ben to the ground, keeping a hand on his shoulder. "I did other work before that, but yes those were my most recent and popular movies."

"Oh my god, Lyla Mayer!" Beth continued to gush, leaning towards her sister and grabbing her.

"Settle down now," Hershel insisted as he hobbled towards the door. "Let's get inside everyone."

Lyla hesitated, unsure if the invitation extended to her. "Thank you for taking care of him," she said to Rick. Daryl watched her round green eyes, the color of the trees on a warm summer day, as they looked up at the Sherriff.

"It was our pleasure, ma'am," he replied with a nod. "Come on inside now."

"I should really get Ben back to my group—" she started but Hershel turned around.

"There's no reason for that now," he called out. "You look exhausted. Get something to eat and some rest. Why don't you stay with us for the night and we'll help you find your group tomorrow." He noted the way Ben clutched at the woman's legs and smiled at the little boy. "The both of you."

Taking Ben's hand, she followed the group inside. Rick pointed out their living spaces and cafeteria, before beginning to lead her down another hall. "We've got a group of refugees from another abandoned camp staying in the next cell block. I'm sure we can find you a cell there—"

"They should stay with us," Daryl cut in, much to everyone's surprise. He scowled at the way Lyla looked at him. He licked his lower lip and shuffled a bit before hiking his crossbow higher on his shoulder. "Just figured…they should stay with familiar faces at least."

Beth grinned and took Lyla's pack for her, eagerly showing the woman she so obviously idolized the way to an empty cell in their block. Rick raised his eyebrows and gave Hershel an amused smile as they watched his daughter practically skip up the metal stairs, perkier than they'd seen her in weeks. Everyone's moods seemed to be picking up with these new arrivals in fact. He watched the group's notorious hunter as he appeared to be trying to seem busy unloading his weapons. Yet he couldn't hide how his curious blue eyes occasionally peeked up to the cell Beth had led the new girl to.

* * *

**So yes, Merle will be making the occasional appearance in the story! I know he could be a total jackass at times, but I have to admit I did love him as a character. I think he and Daryl were very similar, Merle just happened to be the darker side that Daryl could have become. In the end, Merle proved that he was a good guy deep down. Plus he had some of the best lines.**


	3. Chapter 3

**So I've noticed that this story is getting quite a few views but no one's really been reviewing. I don't mean to demand reviews like some writers do but I would like to know if people are interested in continuing to read this story. If not, I may just take it down and continue writing it for myself. I'm not looking for any kind of lengthy reviews or commentaries, but please let me know if you are indeed interested in my story! **

* * *

**Chapter 3**

The next morning Daryl set off with Lyla and Ben to find where her group said they'd be waiting for her. Lyla carried her backpack but made sure to keep Ben's small hand in her grip at all times. Daryl led them easily through the forest and towards the river. He noticed Lyla seemed content to walk with him quietly, his usual preference as well, but Ben seemed adamant about making his feelings known.

"I don't wanna leave!" the little boy pouted, stomping his feet as he trudged beside his aunt. "I wanna stay with Daryl and Carl and Rick and Carol!"

"I'm sorry, Ben," Lyla said quietly, looking nervously at Daryl. She didn't want him to hear her nephew whining, especially after all the man had done for the two of them. "But we need to find my group. You'll like them, too."

"Are there kids?" he looked up at her.

"Well…no, but you'll still have fun with me!"

"_You?_" Ben sneered with a large scowl. Daryl had to grit his teeth to keep from smiling at the boy's disappointment. He hadn't been around kids much before the walker outbreak but he knew enough to know not to laugh when a kid was being scolded.

"Benjamin Murphy Mayer," Lyla chided, although it seemed that she too was struggling to keep from smiling. "I'll have you know that I am _very_ fun! Don't you remember I always gave you the best birthday and Christmas presents? What happened to the little boy who was clinging to me yesterday?"

Ben looked guilty but still remained put out. "Fine," he mumbled, looking at his feet and shuffling them even more as he walked. "But you're still not as cool as Daryl."

This time Lyla couldn't contain her laughter as she looked over at the man in question, her eyes sparkling in mirth. He eyed her with a quirked mouth but said nothing.

"Alright," she said finally, winking at Daryl. "Maybe you do have me there."

The sound of rushing water came soon and they hurried to reach the west riverbank. They stopped short when the grassy forest floor stopped at a drop off into the bank. There was no one to be found.

"This is where they said right?" Lyla asked as she turned in a slow circle. "They said they'd be here."

"Don't hear or see no one," Daryl muttered, his eyes scanning through the trees. He stood at the edge of the riverbank and looked up and down the body of water but there was no sign of life. Ben broke away from Lyla to play with some rocks near the river. She watched him closely for a moment as he picked up a few and tossed them into the water.

Daryl noticed her biting on the side of her lip as she crossed her arms, obviously trying to decide what to do. She shrugged her heavy pack from her shoulders and let it fall recklessly behind her.

"Can't believe a group would just abandon one of their own like this—'specially a woman and child."

Lyla sighed, her forest green eyes meeting his steel blue ones. "Actually I'm not too surprised. The group I was with…most of them were from my film crew. A bit too 'Hollywood'. Not really the kind to look out for others."

"You do," he noted.

"Yeah I guess."

"And that…prick," their eyes darted to Ben but he was too busy playing to notice what they were saying, "after all that bullshit to keep you he just left ya here."

Lyla gave a sarcastic laugh, "That doesn't really surprise me either."

"He yer boyfriend?"

She kept her eyes on Ben as she leaned towards Daryl, lowering her voice a bit. "We…" she raised her eyebrows to signify what she was getting at, "once, but that was years ago. It was a mistake. My stupid one. We've never been together but he's still liked the idea of keeping me around for years. Some kind of possessive thing. He only pulls crap like that when he thinks I'm going to be 'taken away' from him."

Daryl shifted the crossbow in his arms. "Scumbag," he muttered. He could feel Lyla's soft gaze on him but actively kept his eyes focused on the ground in front of them.

"Well," she said finally with a sigh. "I'm not really sure what to do now."

He looked up at her. "Woman, yer comin' back with me."

She blinked at him in surprise, "You sure your group won't mind us? I don't want to intrude."

"Ain't no trouble," he insisted. "Ain't right to leave a woman and her kid out here all alone."

"He's not my kid," Lyla corrected absently. She watched Ben as he kicked a larger rock towards the flowing water. He laughed gleefully when it made a loud _ploosh_ sound. "Well…kind of."

They watched Ben play for a bit longer before he decided that wasn't interesting anymore. Lyla pulled him towards her, "Guess what? It turns out we're going to be heading back with Daryl after all."

They both laughed at the delightful whoop Ben made at the news. He jumped around Daryl and smiled shyly up at the man he'd become so taken with. Lyla grinned at how her nephew seemed to look up to Daryl already, glad he was going to have some kind of male presence in his life if his father wasn't going to be around. Even if it came from the gruff quiet hunter type.

* * *

It took Lyla nearly a week to convince Daryl, Rick, and Hershel to even think about letting her contribute to the group's watch rounds. First, Hershel declared that he believed she was malnourished—which she had to admit was probably true, since her former group hadn't been so lucky in the area of survival skills as this one was—and prescribed her with bed rest for a few days. When she seemed to be putting on a bit more weight and some color returned to her cheeks, she was allowed to move about as she chose. She spent her days working with Ben on some schoolwork Lori and Carol lent her, playing games with him, and reacquainting him with family memories. The group was extremely welcoming to the two of them and she was finally beginning to feel comfortable with them. But she could only be cooped up in the confining walls of the prison for so long.

"Please Rick! I know I can help!" she insisted as she followed him into the mess hall. Hershel was sitting at one of the tables with Carol standing behind him, a pair of scissors in her hand. One of the Woodbury refugees had brought it along with him and had graciously allowed the group to borrow it for some much needed haircuts. She snipped at his lengthy white hair, trimming it shortly to the nape of his neck. They both looked up at the sound of Lyla's pleas. Daryl was waiting for Rick near the doors, leaning against the wall with one foot propped back and his crossbow clutched near his shoulder.

"We have plenty of help for now, Lyla. You just worry about eating enough and taking care of Ben," Rick replied as he shouldered his coat on. "We don't need you to push yourself."

"I'm good, I swear! I know I'm small but I've been doing this for years. I know what I'm doing," she admitted finally, turning at the sound of Glenn, Maggie, and Sasha joining them in the mess hall. Beth followed in shortly after with Judith resting in her arms.

Rick sighed and gave Lyla a look that she knew she wouldn't like. "Lyla, I'm sorry. I know you want to help but right now we don't have the time to train you. And we have enough walkers hittin' this place up already without the added sound of gunshots from your training."

Lyla looked at Daryl for a long moment, willing him to speak up for her with her eyes. His steel blue ones practically electrified her as they matched her own gaze, but she knew he wasn't going to stand against Rick. Not when he didn't know her level of experience himself. She set her shoulders and turned on her heel, briskly walking past the others and out of the cafeteria. She heard Rick start to say something about how it was for the best for now but she kept walking, taking the steps to her and Ben's cell two at a time.

He was curled up on one of the cots, resting after a morning of math problems and a game of chase with Lyla. She wanted to keep him active so his endurance would stay up. In this world you never knew when you'd have to run. She stayed quiet as she ripped open her pack, digging through it and grabbing what she was looking for.

Rick and Daryl were still in the cafeteria with the group, discussing their plan for taking care of a group of walkers who were trying to get through a weak area in the inner fence, when she came back, shoulders squared and face set in determination. Everyone looked at her at the sound of her soft footsteps.

She saw Rick eying what she was holding and he opened his mouth to say something when she pulled a small, thin throwing knife from her thigh holster. Without a word, Lyla pressed her thumb against the handle as she raised the blade to shoulder height and flicked her wrist, sending the blade flying. Heads turned as it flung into a bag of coffee beans with a clean thud.

Rick's eyebrows raised and some of the others made whispers or gasps of surprise. Daryl even perked up from his place on the border of the circle they were standing in.

"Alright," Rick said finally. "Not bad."

Lyla arched an eyebrow at him. Not bad? "Check the bag."

He looked to Daryl, who stepped over to the counter where the small paper bag sat. Rubbing his lower lip for a moment, the hunter lightly pulled the knife's handle a bit, just enough to examine the damage without causing the beans to spill. Daryl let out a low whistle, "Clean cut right along the seam."

She crossed her arms, unable to prevent her lips from twitching up at the corners. Rick eyed the new girl, considering.

Beth grinned as she rocked the baby, "Abby Strong's signature weapon is her throwing knives."

"You've been trained with those?" Rick asked.

"Not these specifically," Lyla admitted. "Stunt knives. The holster was mine from the set though. I've picked these up as I've gone." Most throwing knives came in sets of three. She grabbed one whenever she came across it. Some of the knives were silver with thin blades, others were black with wider blades. She kept nearly a dozen in her thigh holster.

"All of this from your movies?" Hershel asked.

She nodded. "I can shoot and fight, too."

"Don't y'all use stunt doubles?" Maggie asked. Beth glared at her sister for her skepticism.

"At times," Lyla admitted. "But I did as much as I could. And I took all the training no matter what. I wanted to understand what my character was doing, make it _look_ natural at least."

"What can you shoot?" Rick continued, finally looking like he might take up her offer to help.

"I was first trained with a standard Beretta, nine millimeter," she explained. "But I've done some work with a few others. Mostly an H&K USP."

"Alright, now we're talking," he said with a laugh. Rick looked to Daryl, "Think we should see how she does?"

The hunter eyed her for a moment before nodding. "Might as well see what she's got."

Beth excitedly wished her luck as they watched her follow the two men. They were going to meet Tyreese at the gate to check out the damage. He nodded to them when they approached, showing a brief look of surprise at the sight of Lyla but saying nothing. She noticed he tended to do that a lot with her. But, she supposed, standing at five-foot-four and barely weighing more than one hundred fifteen pounds even with her leather jacket on, she probably wasn't the most intimidating of all people.

Daryl knelt next to the chain link fence, reaching a hand out to trace a finger along the rust-worn links. He applied a bit of pressure, frowning when one of the links snapped in half at his touch. There was dried blood on a large portion of the damaged fence, likely the result of a fatality of one of the prisoners, and it seemed that some of the walkers had taken to gnawing on the metal to get a taste.

"We're gonna need to reinforce this whole area," Tyreese suggested, hiking the strap of his rifle on his shoulder. They all stood together and frowned at the fence, looking at all the weak links that would need reinforcement. Rick pulled out a handful of zip ties they could use to secure the links, ones they'd used before; while Tyreese would try to distract the walkers from a safe distance and Daryl would keep guard, Rick and Lyla—who had the smallest and therefore quickest fingers—would work to secure as much of the fence as they could. Lyla shrugged her jacket off, knowing the stiff leather would become a hindrance, and tried to ignore the cool air pressing through her thin green shirt. She pushed her sleeves up to her elbows as Rick nodded to Tyreese, who began to bang and shout at the fence several feet to their right, drawing walkers closer to him. Daryl, keeping close watch, muttered a go ahead and they quickly began to attach the bindings to the fence.

They'd just about finished when one of the walkers noticed Rick working at the fence, just to the right of Lyla. She was a middle aged woman dressed in nursing scrubs that draped off of her lanky body. One of her legs dragged behind her but she reached her arms towards Rick's fingers poking through the fence. Daryl took her out easily with one of their metal rods so as not to waste precious bolts. He had to jerk the rod to dislodge it from her head and while he was busy with that, another walker blindsided them, reaching for Rick and Lyla's fingers. This one was a larger man and he easily tore at the worn down links, pushing a meaty arm through the whole he'd created. His rotting flesh tore from the bones as the rusty links of the fence snagged it, but he didn't seem to notice, too intent on getting his next meal. Before she could back away fast enough, his fingers tangled themselves in Lyla's long ponytail and yanked her towards him.

She tried to restrain herself from making any noise as her scalp burned and the walker's grip forced her face against the metal linked fence. Her hands scrabbled at the fence and ground for some kind of grip as he pulled her to a kneeling position. Out of the corner of her eyes she saw as Rick reached for his gun holstered at his hip, looking quickly to Daryl and Tyreese, obviously not wanting to draw any more attention to Lyla or the gaping hole in the fence. Daryl finally gave up on the metal rod and began to load his crossbow when Lyla groaned and yanked one of her knives from her thigh. She drove the blade into the walker's skull, then pulled out another one to sever his arm. The cold fingers were still twined in her locks and she struggled to get them out of her hair as quickly as she could.

At this point a handful of other walkers had noticed the commotion and began to wander over, pawing at the arm-sized hole in the fence. Lyla nodded to Rick and began to throw knives at them, taking them out easily as he worked to close up the hole. Daryl took out the ones that stood farther away and Tyreese tried to bring their attention back over to him. When they were all down, there was just enough room for her to reach out and retrieve nearly all of the blades.

Finally the fence was secure and Lyla leaned back against the crisp grass with an exhausted sigh. Rick nodded to her as he wiped at his brow.

"Shit," Tyreese said with a breathy laugh as he walked over to them. "What were you before all this, some kind of slayer?"

Lyla laughed. "No, but I played one."

* * *

After a much needed shower, Lyla stepped into the mess hall with damp locks. She looked at the food supply they kept on a set of shelves, hoping to find some kind of snack for Ben before bedtime. He was playing cards with Carl in their cell but she was sure he'd love the surprise. He'd been doing so well with trying to behave.

She smiled at the sight of Carol standing behind a seated Daryl with the shears in her hand. She was speaking softly to him and they both smiled at whatever she was saying. Lyla was surprised at the friendship between the rough hunter and the broken woman. She'd heard from Maggie and Beth about Ed and Sophia, but Lyla wasn't so sure if the woman she'd gotten to know lately was the same one they'd met a year ago.

"Heard you had an exciting afternoon," Carol joked when she noticed Lyla. She felt Daryl tense up at the sight of the new girl and tried not to grin at him. She'd never seen Daryl act like this but was amused and eager to see what would happen between them.

Lyla sighed, stretching her arms above her shoulders as she scanned the shelves of dried food. "All in a day's work, right?" She spotted a box of fruit snacks that were shaped like characters from a kid's show she'd never heard of before.

"Think these are any good?" Carol turned to look at the box and her eyes softened a bit. Lyla wondered if Carol recognized the characters from something Sophia watched. She was about to put it back when the older woman nodded to her.

"I think those are just about the only thing that will survive the end of the world." She looked at Lyla for a moment before turning back to Daryl's shaggy hair at her fingers.

The distant sound of Judith's cries began to resonate throughout the prison's solid walls. After a few minutes, Beth called out for Carol. It was obvious that the girl was struggling to comfort the little baby back to sleep.

"I should go help," Carol said, brushing some stray hairs from Daryl's neck. She'd only gotten through half of the back of his head. "If she doesn't quiet down soon she'll wake up the whole place."

She turned to Lyla, who had opened one of the fruit snack pouches and examining how hardened the little treats may have become. "Lyla, can you take over here? I've already got it started, just follow the length."

Lyla eyed Daryl and Carol pretended not to notice the flush that began to crawl up her face. Daryl watched his friend rush out of the cafeteria to get to the baby, suddenly feeling nervous being alone with Lyla. He figured she'd come up with some excuse as to why she had to leave all the sudden as well. Just as he was about to come up with an out for her—for the both of them, really—he felt soft fingers brush against the back of his neck. He tilted his head up to look at her in surprise, locking on her clear jade eyes.

She cleared her throat quietly, reaching for the scissors Carol had left. "Do you mind?" He shook his head no and looked forward, clenching his jaw at the feel of her fingers stroking his grown out hair. Lyla worked the scissors around the back of his head and around his ears, not knowing exactly how Carol had aimed to trim his hair but guessing as she went along. It was still somewhat rough around the edges—that would always be Daryl's style—but at least it wouldn't fall into his eyes anymore.

"Um," her soft voice broke through the tense silence between them, "I need to do you in the front now."

He seemed to realize the implications of what she said as soon as she did, and she felt her face heat up as she struggled to save face. "I mean…ah, you know what I mean."

Daryl scratched at the back of his head as he looked up at her, swiveling in his seat. She couldn't help but notice that he always acted like he was nervous around her. It was endearing yet she found herself wanting him to feel comfortable with her like he did with Carol.

He kept his bright blue eyes on her face as she reached the scissors up to his bangs. Before she clipped she pulled away slightly, "You should keep your eyes down." He started a bit and she frowned at the confused hurt she saw in his eyes. "Just so you don't get hair in them," she assured.

Clearing her throat again, Lyla leaned down so her face was just inches away from Daryl's. Carefully she clipped the long stray hairs from around his forehead and sideburns. When she was finally finished, she set the scissors down on the table behind Daryl and brushed her fingers through his hair to clear any strays. His hands reached up to brush any away from his shoulders and chest and their fingers caught in the process, causing their eyes to lock together.

Lyla's damp waves hung like a curtain around them, engulfing them both in the floral scent of the shampoo she'd found. Daryl couldn't help but take in her clean face, so fresh from her shower her skin practically glowed. He heard her breath catch and after a moment her fingers slowly closed over his own until their hands were locked at his chest.

Now that she was so close to the hunter, she could see the intensity in his electric eyes. They were so bright, so emotional, even though he tried not to be. She saw a passion in the swirling blue and her lips parted slightly.

They stayed locked together, breathing in the same air. Daryl lifted his face to reach hers when they heard little socked feet padding in their direction. "Lyla! Lyla, are you in here?"

Lyla straightened and moved to collect the box of fruit snacks she'd set aside. Daryl coughed and stood, scratching at the back of his head as he tried not to pace around the table.

"Hi, sweetie," she greeted her nephew as he found them, dressed in a pair of Carl's old flannel pants and a large T-shirt. "All ready for bed?"

Ben nodded, grinning widely at Daryl. "Carl's been teaching me Euchre!"

Daryl gave a half smile, glancing briefly at Lyla before turning back to Ben. "That's great kid. My brother taught me how to play when I was small."

"Really? Can you play with me? Not yet…but when I know how to win?"

They laughed and Lyla reached to grab Ben's hand. "Alright, leave Daryl alone. He's probably too busy." They started to head out the door to get to their cell. Daryl frowned, for some reason he couldn't understand wanting to do right by the boy…and his aunt.

"Next time I get a day off, yer on kid," he called out. Ben turned to him with a delighted look on his face and Lyla looked at him with a look that could have bowled him over. He didn't know what she was looking at him with necessarily, but he did know he wouldn't mind seeing it again. He nodded good night to them and watched the girl lead her nephew up the metal stairs for bed.

After their bedtime snack of slightly hardened fruit snacks, Lyla lay next to Ben where he was tucked into his cot. His large eyes were blinking heavily but he struggled to keep talking. "You really think Daryl will play with me?"

"He said he would, didn't he?" she murmured, trying to use a soft tone to calm him. She ran her fingers through his dark hair, like she knew his mother used to do for him. "I think he's a man of his word."

Ben yawned widely, tucking his face towards her warmth. "I do too. I'm gonna be just like that when I grow up."

Lyla grinned as the little boy finally closed his eyes and dozed off. She continued to run her fingernails along his scalp for several minutes, content to watch him sleep. As she contemplated his tired words, she couldn't help but admit to herself that if Ben turned out anything like Daryl Dixon, he would be just fine.

* * *

**Here's my spiel about Carol: I don't have anything against her like some people do (especially some writers on this site, as I've seen), but I hope she doesn't end up with Daryl. Not because I want him for myself (well…that's not the ****main**** only reason), but because I think for the entire show she's been a woman who defines herself based on others. First she was a weak, abused wife, then she was the mother of the lost girl, now she's been kind of the broken woman. But at the end of this season she's finally starting to become a stronger woman and I really hope she continues to progress like that in the show. However, if she ended up with Daryl (at least anytime soon) I think she'll just fall back into a dependency on him, rather than becoming strong all on her own. So maybe my stance on Carol/Daryl will change if we see Carol develop into her own strong character, but for now I just don't think it's best for her. That being said, I love her friendship with Daryl and I'm not going to write her as some whiney jealous woman in my story. Hope that's cool with everyone. Feel free to share your own thoughts about her or her relationship with Daryl!**


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